Gatekeeper butterfly, burdock leaves, common fleabane: 12th August 2010
A walk beside Flixton Marshes in Suffolk, the butterflies danced around us like demented fairies, the flowers unveiled their faces… and the sun bore down on us.
#2019picoftheweek challenge: Sunshine
For details of #2019picoftheweek challenge see MariaAntonia
Crimson’s Creative Challenge #40
First time by this way I came, I waded through a streamlet deep
Second time by here I trudged through mud, residual of the water seep
Third time the ground was dry; I wondered why.
35 words. Written for Crimson’s Creative Challenge #40
This little place is locally known as Mud Hole… which is a corruption of Mud Hall, for a century past there was a hall, marked on the map, to left of here. Its bricks and mortar can still be seen poking from the accumulated muck and leaf litter.
In Roman times a stream rose south of here and flowed beneath these steps. That same stream still flows after heavy rains, fed now by buried field drains, the spout of one just visible beside the steps.
CCC40
Welcome to my weekly challenge—open to all—just for FUN, FUN, FUN
Here’s how it works:
Every Wednesday I post a photo (this week it’s that one above.)
You respond with something CREATIVE
Here are some suggestions:
You have plenty of scope and only two criteria:
If you post a link in the comments section of this post I’ll be able to find it
If you include Crimson’s Creative Challenge as a heading, WP Search will find it (theory)
by ‘Searching’ in the WP Reader (fingers crossed)
Here’s wishing you inspirational explosions. And FUN.
image by Ionas Nicolae on pixabay
Heel and toe, heel and toe, it’s over the tallow-dripped boards we go
Turn me around, hold me high, mind the pans, don’t want to fry
Skip it and slip it and skim the next bit, twist it and twine it, make me a wick
Hold it loose, pull it tight, don’t want to burn it, don’t want a light
Heel and toe, heel and toe, it’s over the tallow-dripped boards we go
Join as one, join as all, forget the choices, raise your voices,
Take the cake, take the pan, but don’t take it wrong
In this, the Pancake Threaders song
Written for Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: 102 words.
Manitoba. Image by CG on Google Maps
She’d told Jeff she didn’t want Taffy’s homebrew beer.
And he’d answered, “You wanted to come with us, be one of the fellas, so you’ll drink that beer.”
Fine. Except Jeff and his mates were used to Taffy’s homebrew, and she wasn’t. And in the course of the night it had gurgled through her intestines until, in the early dawn…
Feet rammed into boots, jacket slung over her jimmies, she dived for the door. And who’s cool idea was it to book them a cabin with an outside can?
“Yikes, where’s the rucking key?”
Then key and lock refused to match – a bit like Taffy’s homebrew and her intestines.
“Hells! What!” The door wasn’t locked.
Sat inside that rickety outhouse, she found blessed relief. Until…
What was that snuffling and chuffing?
She opened the outhouse door just enough.
“Oh shits! A rucking polar bear!”
144 words, written for What Pegman Saw: Manitoba, Canada
Adaptation of a story told me from a friend’s first marriage. But it wasn’t a polar bear, and it wasn’t in Canada, it was in Colorado, and it wasn’t on a hunting trip but at her new home.
Meadow Brown butterfly: 31st July 2019
A meadow brown butterfly rests upon a head of unripe blackberries, a perfect blend of colours.
And the meadow brown as more often seen: at rest in a meadow.
Meadow Brown butterfly: 31st July 2019
Waterweeds and… something other: 4th June 2019
Despite I took this photo, I look at it and look at it, and I can’t figure out what plant that is whose shadow is reflected, all entangled with the waterweed. Thus I declare it, an Enigma and post it for the #2019picoftheweek challenge.
For details of #2019picoftheweek challenge see MariaAntonia
Crimson’s Creative Challenge #39
Chains long in the making
Chains not for the breaking
Tie me to this, my waterside settlement
Links forged by my kin
Links forged in Anglin
Held us while crossing
Chased by the Flooding
on storm-seas that were tossing
Chains secured the steading
Chains measured the crop land
Chains ringed this, Hranni’s Land
My beloved Ranworth
It’s disputed whether Ranworth means Settlement on the Edge (of the river? or of the heath?) or if it means Hranni’s Settlement. So I allowed for both. Regardless, it is the land of my fore-fathers, as is the Anglin region of Denmark (though probably via Frisia).
And for those who didn’t see it tagged to the end of Wednesday’s post, the chains in the photo secure Ranworth Broad’s Visitor Centre to the land. The broad is fed by the River Bure, which here is tidal, thus the Centre must have freedom to rise, and fall, and not float away.
CCC#39
Welcome to my weekly challenge—open to all—just for FUN, FUN, FUN
Here’s how it works:
Every Wednesday I post a photo (this week it’s that one above.)
You respond with something CREATIVE
Here are some suggestions:
You have plenty of scope and only two criteria:
If you post a link in the comments section of this post I’ll be able to find it
If you include Crimson’s Creative Challenge as a heading, WP Search will find it (theory)
by ‘Searching’ in the WP Reader (fingers crossed)
Here’s wishing you inspirational explosions. And FUN.
Details of the Visitors Centre at Ranworth Broad, Norfolk
image by Ruth Archer on pixabay
Incompatibility, Ignominy, Incongruity
Jealousy, Rivalry, Malignity
Hostility, Disloyalty, Ferocity
Enmity, Asperity, Antipathy, Animosity
Bad chemistry, Pugnacity, Unpopularity, Bellicosity
Irascibility, Irritability, Implacability, Inimicality
In other words, we don’t hit it off
Written for Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt
